"You're a wise guy, Lawler," he jeered. "A minute ago you hinted that this thing was being engineered by a bunch of cheap crooks. Call them what you like. They're out to break you--understand? You suspect it, and I'm telling you. You went around last fall with a chip on your shoulder, making trouble far Haughton and his friends. And now they're going to bust you wide open and scatter your remains all over the country. They're going to fix you so that you'll never shoot off your gab about conditions in the state again. Governor--hell! you'll be a bum before that gang gets through with you!" He paused, breathing rapidly, his face pale with passion; his eyes glowing with hatred, naked and bitter. He heard Lawler's short, mirthless laugh; he saw Lawler's eyes narrow and gleam with a cold flame as he took a step forward and stood over him. "Get up, Warden," came Lawler's voice, low and vibrant. "You'll understand what I'm going to say a whole lot better if you're on your feet, like a man." Warden got up, defiantly, and for an instant the two men stood looking into each other's eyes, both understanding the enmity that was between them, and both seemingly exulting in it. "I'm thanking you, Warden, for telling me. But I've known, since I talked with Simmons about the cars, just what it all meant. My talks with Hatfield and Governor Haughton convinced me beyond all reasonable doubt. I'm the man they are after, of course. But incidentally, they're going to mulct every other cattle owner in the state. It's a mighty big scheme--a stupendous robbery. The man who conceived it should have been a pirate--he has all the instincts of one. "But get this straight. You've got to fight me. Understand? You'll drag no woman into it. You went to the Hamlin ranch the other day. God's grace and a woman's mercy permitted you to get away, alive. Don't let it happen again. Just as sure as you molest a woman in this section, just so sure will I kill you no matter who your friends are! Do you understand that, Warden?" Warden did not move a muscle. He tried to look steadily into Lawler's eyes, found that he could not endure the terrible intensity of them--and drooped his own, cursing himself for the surrender. He heard Lawler laugh again, a sound that sent a cold shiver over him; and then he saw Lawler standing beside the desk at which Jordan sat. "Jordan," said Lawler, shortly; "I want you to vent my cattle. There's eight thousand head, approximately. They're being held just out of town--about a mile. I'd like to have you give me a certificate of ownership tonight, so we can start to drive before daylight." Jordan's face whitened, and then grew crimson. He essayed to look up, to meet Lawler's eyes, raising his head and then lowering it again without achieving his desire. He cleared his throat, shifted his body and scuffed his feet on the floor. At last, after clearing his throat again, he spoke, huskily: "We ain't ventin' any trail herds this fall, Lawler."